Taming The Tabloid Heiress. Michele Dunaway

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Taming The Tabloid Heiress - Michele Dunaway


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pulled to free herself from his tenacious grip, but instead Paula and Georgia gave her a helpful shove that sent her right into his waiting arms. Joshua smiled and passed the microphone to a steward, who appeared from nowhere. The touch of his fingertips against her elbow felt like a flame as he led her to the dance floor.

      The lights dimmed, and the first song was a soft, almost waltz-like wedding reception number. Her concentration evaporated when Joshua Parker expertly took her hands. Years of dance classes came in handy, and she moved automatically while he held her at a polite distance. Laughter and squeals of delight reached her ears as other cast members retrieved their dance partners. Kit gritted her teeth and reminded herself that she had been in trickier spots before and survived the experiences. Barely, but she’d survived.

      “You did this deliberately.” Kit’s words sounded biting, but she made her face radiate only happiness.

      “So what if I did? Imagine my surprise to see you, ma chérie. Shocking. I never would have pictured you to be a LaFrofan. But here you are, in the flesh.”

      The way he said flesh made Kit shudder.

      “Anyway, after our brief encounter today I wanted to feel your body close to mine again.” Joshua moved her smoothly and expertly around the floor. “And it definitely fits mine, don’t you think?”

      He chuckled softly. As his deep laughter tickled her ear, Kit’s nerve endings sent illicit thoughts racing to her brain. Joshua’s fluid movements impressed her, as did the heat coming from his steely chest, a chest she longed to lean against. His next words brought her back to reality.

      “Anyway, I’ve been dying to know your reaction once you discovered me onboard. Did you know on the plane that you had Joshua Parker offering to make you a member of the mile-high club? Most of the women in here would be swooning.”

      He repositioned his hand slightly higher on the exposed skin of her back and pulled her closer. The simple movement of five soft fingertips shot heated tremors up and down her spine.

      “I’m not most women,” Kit returned heatedly, displaying the Irish temper she was known for. “If this weren’t a public place I would—”

      “What? Dump dog food on me? Or maybe a glass of wine?”

      “I don’t believe you! You know who I am! You knew on the plane!”

      He laughed at her outrage and twirled her, sending her away before guiding her toward him again. Kit understood his intent too late, and his twirl pressed her body directly against his. In a millisecond she felt the masculine call of every firm, tight muscle of his body and her body’s own immediate weak-kneed response to it. The instant loss of sanity she had felt on the plane returned, and even the slight pain from her injured ankle vanished. She drew a quick breath as the next move pushed her away from him.

      Control, Kit, she told herself. Get control of yourself. Her eyelids fluttered and she struggled to contain her body’s response to the growing sensation from the simple act of Joshua’s hand in contact with the bare skin on her back. She lost concentration.

      “Just think, you and I meeting here, again, like this.” Joshua shifted the fingertips of the hand that held Kit’s, haphazardly caressing the pads on her fingers in the process. Kit shuddered. “And of course I knew who you were. Your reputation precedes you.”

      The jerk! Of all the comments he could have made. Kit fumed. “Well, I didn’t recognize you. If I had I would have known exactly how much of a jerk you are.”

      Joshua laughed boldly. “I admire your spirit. Too bad we didn’t take advantage of the plane.” He shrugged ruefully. “But life is full of if-onlys, isn’t it, Kit?”

      His words trailed off as he dipped her. Kit bristled. How dare he mock her? She discovered he wasn’t finished.

      “You know, Kit, it’s a shame. We could’ve had such an interesting time together. I know you want me, Kit, your body can’t lie.”

      “C’est la vie,” Kit replied, using one of the few French phrases she knew. She gave an eloquent shrug. “I’m sure I’ll survive the pain. The horror.”

      Joshua’s laughter insulted her ears. “Touché, my darling Kit. You’re truly a firebrand. You’ve pierced my heart with your sarcasm and insensitivity for my male ego.”

      Only the fact she needed an interview from one of the cast members he worked with kept Kit from spiking her heel into his foot. “Somehow I can’t picture you dying over it.”

      Joshua led her through some complicated steps with ease. “No, I doubt I will. After all, a cruise is a cruise. Still, I’m sure you’ll manage to get some publicity out of it somehow. You wouldn’t want Daddy to think you’ve turned over a new leaf. There are plenty of men onboard to dazzle.”

      Kit somehow checked her rising fury. The nerve of the man! The arrogance! How dare he speak to her like that. Fine, she thought. Two could play this game. She gave him a saccharine smile, and her tongue dripped syrup.

      “You know, that’s oh, so true. I didn’t think you were the only fish in this sea.”

      Joshua’s eyes darkened dangerously, and Kit drew herself up and raised her eyebrows at him. He shifted his fingers, his face becoming a mask. “Well said. I almost feel sorry for your fiancé. No wonder he cannot control you.”

      Joshua’s gaze held hers until Kit looked away. Strange, foreign feelings coursed through her. What was wrong with her? One glass of wine and her guard dropped.

      Kit blinked to focus. She hoped the lights blinding her were from the disco ball hanging from the ceiling and not from someone’s flash. But how could someone born on Friday the thirteenth ever be lucky?

      And no man had ever overwhelmed her like Joshua Parker. Over the years she had lost count of the number of men her father tried to match her with. Even good old Pete, her one and only ex-fiancé, had never moved her like this, which was why he was now happily married to someone else. Rallying her defenses, Kit readied her arsenal but the song ended.

      Joshua pulled her next to him, and Kit gazed up at him, willing her features to take on a look of pure defiance.

      “You were just great.” His voice was husky and slightly hoarse. “I knew you’d be just great.”

      Kit almost didn’t hear his next words, they were spoken so softly. “We’d be just great. It will be one of life’s greatest disappointments that we won’t get to find out.”

      As the length of her body pressed against his for what seemed to be an indeterminable second, Kit felt her mutinous body fully respond. Her knees undermined and weakened, she clung to him. Way too much bad wine, Kit thought, as she looked away from him, desperately trying to extinguish the fires of desire blazing in every pore.

      Joshua pushed her away from him, as if somehow she had singed him too, although Kit knew that wasn’t possible. He didn’t look charred, in fact, he looked relieved. Clapping began all around them.

      “Bravo. Again we part.”

      “Let’s make it for good this time,” Kit murmured softly under her breath. Tense from their encounter, she was barely aware of the continued clapping as Joshua guided her to the edge of the dance floor.

      As he left her, Kit rubbed her elbow and tried to erase his touch. No good. She could still feel the way her wanton skin had trembled beneath his fingertips. From across the room, Kit watched as a look of sheer satisfaction and masculine amusement crossed his face. Catching her gaze, he mockingly saluted her with his bottle of mineral water. Irritated at his insolence, Kit turned away, only to face her rabid roommates, who were now descending on her for all the details of her dance-floor encounter.

      Chapter Three

      The long sip of cool water that slid easily down his parched throat felt good, but it did little to quench the thirst he now felt


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